


Never Assume

by Kiss Kiss (aliasmajik)



Category: Black Jewels - Anne Bishop
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-09-22
Updated: 2011-09-22
Packaged: 2017-10-23 22:59:57
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,316
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/256035
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/aliasmajik/pseuds/Kiss%20Kiss
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Hobart muses about his niece and the nuisance she's become when a letter from the Warlord Prince of Dhemlan, a Sadiablo, seems to answer the question for him.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

"That icy little whore is going to destroy everything, Hobart!" Jameson snarled as the Yellow Jeweled Warlord paced the room. Jameson himself wore only the White. Between them, they were some of the most influential men in Glacia. They had been instrumental in the formation of the male council that now governed so much of Glacian policy. They had almost succeeded thus far in gaining complete control: except for one little glitch in their plans. That glitch was Hobart's own niece, a little triple-gifted Queen that could make life very difficult for all of them if she was allowed to make her Offering to the Darkness.

"Calm yourself, Jameson. Karla is only a child, yet. She is barely fifteen. Legally, she cannot rule Glacia for another five years, until her age of majority. By then, she will be long dead. I promise you that much." Hobart replied, his voice far too calm for how he was pacing. Jameson reclined in his chair and gritted his teeth. Hobart might be calm about this, but Jameson knew that their were too many people that would always desire a Queen to rule over them. Weaklings, with no vision.

"You allow her to live on. You should have seen to it that she died when you arranged for her parents to expire." Jameson snapped. Hobart pinned him where he sat with only the crystalline blue eyes so common to the aristo of Glacia.

"I seem to remember that you were one of those who argued that it would be useful to have a puppet Queen as we took over." he replied. Jameson sighed and finally shrugged.

"That was before I knew how powerful she was... and how unnatural."

He spoke of her abilities as a Black Widow. Few would ever call a Healer's gifts evil, for they were used for the good of all. And a Queen was the sort that drew all of the other Blood to serve them. But Black Widows... they were the dreamweavers and the ones who walked the darkest paths of the Blood. The whispers of Black Widows being unnatural women had begun since Karla's birth, and they slowly began to intensify. It was unfortunate that so many of the people had already sighted Karla as their next Queen, despite her age.

It made sense. Karla's mother, Catherine, had married Hobart's brother, Edmund, and she had also served as Glacia's Queen until her death. Edmund had been both husband and Consort to the Lady, despite only wearing the Summer sky. Karla took far more after her mother, with a Birthright Sapphire and the same Black Widow abilities that had made the previous Queen so tangibly powerful.

Upon the deaths of Catherine and Edmund, Karla had become Hobart's ward. It was at the same time, and in the same "accident" that Hobart's nephew had also become an orphan. Morton had come to live with him as well. Morton's father, Terrence, had been the third of the brothers and his wife, Estelle, had been a woman of minor aristo standing. The problem was that Terrence happened to serve in Lady Catherine's Court alongside Edmund. Between them, the four had to die. It was only coincidence that young Morton had survived, however. It had not been part of Hobart's plans, but it had made raising Karla easier... but perhaps at a price.

Everything has a price.

"Unnatural or not, Jameson, we cannot use her. We could not control her. She must be destroyed."

A polite knock at the door startled both men, and Hobart straightened before calling "Enter.". A serving man entered and bowed, in his hands a folded piece of parchment. "For Miss Karla, sir. I was told to give it directly to her, but I thought-"

"Yes yes, what is it?"

"An invitation, sir, to a party to be held for the daughter of the Warlord Prince of Dhemlan. I am under the impression that she is a girl of age with Miss Karla, and this will be her first social gathering." he spoke. The man presented the letter to Hobart before he bowed and left quickly at Hobart's dismissal. Hobart looked at the letter as if afraid it would bite him.

"You cannot possibly let her go!" Jameson exclaimed. "The Warlord Prince of Dhemlan? He's been so long absent that no one-"

"Knew he had a daughter, for one thing. The Sadiablo family... the same name that the witch who approached the male council uses. Perhaps..." He trailed off. "I do not believe this could be a coincidence, Jameson. Karla will be attending this party." He smiled, as if he'd thought of something very clever. "Oh yes she will be."


	2. Family

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Not linearly related to the last chapter, but another snapshot of Karla before coming to power. A look at her history, her family, and her choices.

Karla had decided a very long time ago that family was something you chose. When she was eleven, her parents were both killed. In that same "incident", her cousin Morton's parents had died as well. Orphaned and alone, they had both gone into the formal care of a mutual uncle by the name of Hobart. At first, despite the loss, Karla had thought that living with her uncle might be bearable. She had been sorely sorely wrong.

A year or so before her parents died, she had met the sister she had never had: Jaenelle. Witch. Dreams made flesh. It had been her secret, hers and Morton's. Jaenelle was the kind of friend that could make you happy, no matter what. Despite the infrequency of her visits, Karla held onto the belief that Jaenelle was her best friend and that Jaenelle really cared about her.

She could still remember the night her mother and father died. She knew, she knew that someone had killed them. Barely eleven years old, and less than half-trained in the Craft, she had woken up in a cold sweat. No screaming, except that which had echoed in her dreams. Bare feet against the cold floor, as she crept out of her bed and across the room, to the door that connected her suite of rooms to the private sitting room that was only for family. Her hand had been on the door before she sensed the explosion of Jewels within.

She had been too young to wear her Jewels all the time. She hadn't yet learned to protect her mind from them, from being lost in the depth of the Sapphire. She had nothing to defend herself with, but she flung that door open anyway. She could see her father's face, as he turned to look in her direction. She could sense the distress, the pure rage of a male on the killing edge, a Warlord Prince roused to defend his family. Shock kept her rooted to the ground when he yelled at her to run: all she could think was that he had so rarely yelled at her, and never when she hadn't deserved it.

She didn't remember anything else. She had slammed the door and run to hide in the library, where her Uncle Hobart had found her later, cowering behind a stack of books taller than she was standing. She hadn't spoken for days, until Jaenelle came. Whether her friend's sorrow had done it, or whether she had just been able to make her rounds in Kaeleer finally (Karla didn't know where Jaenelle was from- she wouldn't say) but Jaenelle had sung the songs of mourning in the Old Tongue, and helped Karla heal, even just enough so she could go on.

Now the only blood related family she had left was Morton. She wouldn't claim Hobart, not after all he'd done. He'd done his best to see her broken, but thanks to the family she'd chosen, the coven and the boyos and Uncle Saetan, she could ascend to be the kind of Queen that Glacia needed. Someday. For now, she would bide her time and her strength, and wait for the formation of the Dark Court.


End file.
